When You Wish Upon A Star
by In Flanders Fields
Summary: All eleven-year-old Harry wanted was a family who loved him. The FRA gives him that. Harry Potter and Gundam Wing Crossover. Warnings inside.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimers:** The author does not own anything associated with Harry Potter, Gundam Pilots, or Disney's _Pinocchio_.

**Warnings:** Mentions heavy themes like child abuse. More warnings will probably appear as the story progresses.

A/N: Uh, so yeah, another fanfiction. Sorry that it is so short. More to come later on.

* * *

"**If your heart is in your dream. No request is too extreme. When you wish upon a star. As dreamers do. Fate is kind. She brings to those who love. The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing. - Jiminy Cricket (From Disney's **_**Pinocchio**_**)**

* * *

**Prologue: A Child's Wish**

_Dear Diary,_

_I, uh, have never really written in a diary before, but Hermione suggested it, and she's super smart, so I thought I would give it a try. I am not really sure how to go about this, so I suppose I should start by saying who I am. I am Harry James Potter, and I am eleven, but I'll be twelve soon. I just finished my first year at Hogwarts, which is a boarding school. It's said to be one of the best schools in Europe, and I would agree, but I don't know any other school quite like it. Hogwarts is my home, though, even if I have to live with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley during the summer months._

_They, my aunt and uncle, don't like me much, and I don't really get along with Dudley. I know I should be grateful to them since they took me in after my mum and dad died when I was fifteen months old, but sometimes I wish I had other family, like an older brother, or something- anyone, really, would do- who could take me away from the Dursley's. I sometimes, even dream that I have an older brother who welcomes me home from school with open arms like I see Mr. and Mrs. Granger do or gives me hugs as Mrs. Weasley does. It doesn't even have to be a brother, it could be a sister, but just someone who loves me for who I am, not hate me for what I am not, like the Dursley's. _

_Ron, one of my best mates from school, has_ five _older brothers, two, who have graduated Hogwarts already. Hermione, my other friend, doesn't have any siblings either. She is the smartest person in our class and sometimes helps Ron and myself with our homework sometimes. Hermione can be pushy sometimes and a little annoying, but Ron says that that is because she's a girl, and girls are always annoying. I kind of like it, though, because she's just showing that she cares. I have never had someone who cared about me before. At least, I can not remember anyone ever caring about me doing my best, or turning in my assignments or making sure I eat enough._

_The Dursley's would never waste their time caring for a freak like me. To them, I am a burden who should have been shipped off to an orphanage and forgotten. Sometimes I wish they would give me up. As scary as an orphanage sounds, surely it couldn't be as bad as living here. I have to go now._

_Harry_

"Boy! Get down here and get started on supper! It's not going to fix itself, and I won't have Dudder's starving just because you decide to be a laze-a-bout!" His aunt screeched from downstairs.

Harry quickly tucked the warn red notebook he had managed to snag from the rubbish bin under his bed and scurried out of his room and down the stairs as fast as he dared. It wouldn't do to keep his relatives waiting any longer than necessary as that could lead to a frying pan to the face- it had happened once, and it was an experience he would rather not repeat. He had felt dizzy for days afterward.

Keeping his head down, Harry maneuvered expertly around the kitchen, all the while mindful of his aunt's critical gaze as she bore down on him ready, at a seconds notice, to reprimand him for any personal oversight.

All in all, Harry had made a few mistakes throughout the evening, but thankfully, his aunt found none of his transgressions severe enough to warrant troubling his uncle over. Even so, his "acts of carelessness" ensured another night without food.

It would be his fourth night in a row, but Harry was not only used to it but had been expecting it upon his return from Hogwarts. In spite of Hermione's urges, he had taken care not to overindulge in the rich foods that the house-elves of Hogwarts regularly provided. Even as his stomach became accustomed to the food, and he was able to eat more, he still limited his proportions much to the frustration of Hermione and the confusion of Ron.

Although he was sure Hermione knew or at least suspected why Harry was reluctant to overeat, he refused to tell them just how wrong the Dursley's treated him. He knew he ought to, as there might be a chance that someone here could threaten the Dursley's in a way that would make them listen, but after years and years of adults letting him down, Harry didn't want to set himself up for more disappointment. He'd had enough of that from his primary school teachers.

So here he was, back with the Dursley's, wishing, not for the first time, that someone would intervene and help him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers:** The author does not own anything associated with Harry Potter, Gundam Pilots, or Disney's _Pinocchio_.

**Notes about this chapter:** I have made the Potter's a little bit older in this story to make things work.

There is also mention and mild description of abuse and injuries.

* * *

**"If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme. When you wish upon a star, as dreamers do, fate is kind. She brings to those who love the sweet fulfillment of their secret longing." - Jiminy Cricket (From Disney's **_**Pinocchio**_**)**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Days turned into weeks and whenever Harry found the time, he continued to write in his journal. Most days, he was too tired from the chores assigned to write, but on the days where he spent most of his time locked inside his room, Harry would spend a few minutes chronicling every misdeed of the Dursley's. He poured his soul into its pages, barring his miserable life for anyone to read. However, infrequent his journal entries were, he always wished the same thing: a family member besides the Dursley's that would take him in and put an end to the abuse.

It was after one particularly, grueling punishment that Harry, blindly, due to the swollen eye and broken glass, that he pulled out his pen and pad and through the tears, wrote for the first time that week.

_Dear Diary,_

_I try, I really do try my best, to finish all my chores on time and do a good job. Day in and day out, I try my hardest to complete every task they assign to the best of my abilities. Yet, I fear that my best efforts will never be good enough for my Aunt and uncle. _

_To them, I am a mistake. A screw-up. A freak-of-nature. A lazy, good-for-nothing freak who is determined to make their lives miserable. _

_Sometimes, it's all I can do to remind myself that I am none of these things, or at least, I try hard not to be any of those things. _

_I try to do all my chores on time, and I try to be quiet so that it will be easier for them to pretend that I don't exist. I try to do everything they ask me, no matter how hard, or dangerous, or how much it might hurt me in the end, but I guess the keyword is _try.

_Just this morning, Uncle Vernon took a belt to my back because I burned the bacon for the second morning in a row. I was trying to poison him and Dudley. I might not like them, but I wouldn't ever try to poison them. Never, ever. _

_And if that wasn't enough, he also punched me around a little bit, causing marks to my face. Aunt Petunia wasn't pleased about it, seeing as we have to go to the Preventer's Office in London. Apparently, there is a new law or something that states that everyone has to register to see if they have a family member that was separated due to the war but that I was at school and couldn't go when the Dursley's went. And that was something the Dursley's were, or at least, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley: upstanding and law-abiding citizens. _

_Wouldn't it be something if I did have a sibling or something? I suppose it _is _possible that I could have an elder sibling, as they were 24 years old when they had me. But mum and dad would have had to have been awfully young. I wonder if they would be a "freak" like me…. But that would be impossible because I am, and will always be, the only child of James and Lily Potter._

_Harry_

Harry heaved a huge sigh. He still had an hour before the Dursley's were going to leave. He supposed he ought to try and do something about his face. There was no way his Aunt would let him out of the house with a bloodied nose and lip. As for the black eye, there was little he could do, not that Aunt Petunia would care. Although she might actually try to cover it up with make-up considering she had, for once, intervened in his uncle's disciplinary attempts earlier.

It was about fifteen minutes later; Harry had deemed himself about as presentable as he was going to get. He knew it wouldn't satisfy his Aunt by any stretch of the imagination- what with his messy hair, pale, somewhat gaunt appearance, and the most recent bruising and bloodied face- but at least it was better than the alternative.

To Harry's surprise, his Aunt actually had tried to apply a little bit of make-up. Just enough to try to "get some color on his cheeks" like, she would care about that. But he supposed for appearance's sake it was probably better for him to not look so unwell.

It might cause suspicion, and that was the last thing he needed or wanted was someone- no matter how well-meaning they were- snooping where they had no business snooping. Of course, if these people the Dursley's were taking him to see today were as official as the Dursley's made them out to be, it might be a good thing to arouse their suspicion.

Harry sitting idly on his bed, trying to keep as quiet as possible, was startled when his Aunt reappeared in his room.

She never entered his room if she didn't absolutely have to. Hesitating at the door, she looked around once, sharp eyes clearly finding fought in everything she saw. Stiffly, as if expecting something to attack her, his Aunt walked briskly to him before grabbing him and pulling him up by his arm.

"Listen here, boy," she hissed, "This trip today would not be necessary had you not been at that freaky school of yours. Vernon and I are only going because it is required, and it's against the law to not register. You keep your mouth shut, head down, and do everything they ask of you, or you will get it when we return. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded his head to show that he understood; however, his Aunt wanted to hear it.

"Do you understand?" She repeated, giving him a rough shake as if trying to force the answer out of him.

"I understand! No freaky stuff and no talking." Harry said, gasping as pain erupted throughout his body at his Aunt's mistreatment.

"Good," she sniffed before pointing at the open door. "Get out, and get in the car."

Harry scampered, not wanting to get another tongue lashing from his Aunt or an actual lashing from his uncle.

The car drive to the Preventer's Office was silent. Harry spent his time trying to avoid his cousin's whines and punches and staring out of the window. Harry was surprised when his uncle warned Dudley to be on his best behavior.

Harry wasn't sure he had ever heard his uncle ask Dudley to behave. As far as he knew, his cousin couldn't do any wrong, at least in his parent's eyes.

Harry knew that either the Dursley's were trying to impress these Preventer agents, or they wanted to appear as normal as possible. Harry suspected the first because the Dursley's had never told Dudley not to punch his cousin, no matter what the circumstance was.

It took a while, and several choice words later on his uncle's part, but eventually the Dursley's plus Harry arrived at the Preventer's London Headquarters, and found a place to park.

Once Vernon had repeated his Aunt's earlier threat, the four of them made their way into the receptionist area of the lobby.

When the woman behind the desk did not acknowledge them right away, his uncle cleared his throat loudly to gain her attention.

"I am Vernon Dursley, here with my wife and son. We have an appointment for the boy," he pointed roughly in Harry's general direction, "to get registered."

The woman who up until that point, had been working diligently at her computer, gave a glance at the family in front of her, eyes lingering a second longer on the dark-haired child, not that Harry knew this as he kept his head bowed, before waving them off. "Take a seat, and someone will be down in a while to collect him," she said briskly before turning back to her computer and ignoring them.

Muttering loudly at the woman's abrupt and rude dismissal, his uncle ushered his wife and son over to the small seating arrangement across the room. Harry grudgingly trailed behind and was going to sit a distance away from the Dursley's, but a sharp look from both his Aunt and uncle, made him think better of it.

Normal. Harry's Aunt and uncle wanted to appear like a typical _loving_ family, even if that meant that they had to put up with him for a short while.

Why the Dursley's were so adamant that they appear to be "normal" in this particular instance, Harry didn't know, but he thought it was kind of funny. Not the humorous type of funny, but the out-of-disbelief kind of funny, but… well, Harry wasn't sure who they were trying to fool.

Harry estimated that they had probably waited about twenty to thirty minutes before someone came down for them. It was twenty or thirty minutes too long for his uncle, who started to complain loudly after five minutes of waiting.

"We have an appointment! Why are we made to wait when we have an appointment?" His uncle would mutter before shooting a dark look at Harry as if it was _his_ fault for making them wait when they had, you guessed it, an appointment.

The odd thing was, Harry had not heard a time mentioned at all during any point of his uncle's rants about said appointment. He didn't know if they were running early, on time, or late. Every so often, he would steal a glance at the woman. In spite of his uncle's constant mutterings, she had appeared to forget their existence. It was only when a blonde-haired agent wearing a Preventor's uniform entered the waiting area, that the woman seemed to become aware of her surroundings.

The man stopped by the desk and spoke to the woman, who jerked her head over in their direction before muttering something back. Harry wasn't sure what was said but the man's eyes raked across the four of them before nodding at something she said. They continued to talk for a few seconds longer before the man made his way over to them.

"Mr. Potter?" The man, or actually, boy, spoke. Harry had been observing him through the hair that had fallen in his face noticed that he was actually younger than he had first thought. Harry would put him around eighteen or nineteen, maybe even twenty, but he didn't think he was any older than that.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, but at the frown that his Aunt sent his way made him hastily rethink about his greeting. Nervously clearing his throat, Harry tried again, "I mean, yes, I am Harry."

"If you and your aunt or uncle would like to follow me, we are ready for you now." The man/boy who had yet to introduce himself said softly while frowning at the family before him.

Something was off here if the looks and the emotions pouring off the family in front of him were anything to go by.

The woman looked like she had just sucked a lemon at the thought of accompanying her nephew, and the man looked like he was about to have an aneurism at the mere suggestion, while the boy in question seemed to be mortified at the very idea of either adult coming with him. While it might be considered normal behavior for an adolescent around Harry's age, Quatre knew that there was something more going on here than what meets the eye. There was an underlying tension that radiated off the three, and the boy's body language screamed that he was prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

The only one who acted normal- if you could call it that- was the rotund boy who was distracted by a game or movie on what was probably his parent's cell phone. He was oblivious to his surroundings, focusing solely on the device in front of him.

"I, uh, I don't need them to come. I can handle it by myself. I mean, it's just a blood draw, right?" Harry said nervously, wringing his hands together. Harry was not sure if he wanted to face it by himself, but knowing he really didn't have an option, he got to his feet and shuffled forward, careful to keep his head down, so the agent before him wouldn't see his black eye.

Quatre's frown deepened as the boy still insisted on talking to his feet instead of meeting his eyes and talking to him. "Whatever works for you," He allowed, before motioning Harry to follow him.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself. I'm Quatre Winner, by the way." Quatre said, trying to ease the nervous boy. The emotions radiating off the kid almost took his breath away. Something was definitely wrong here.

"I- what do you want to know?" Harry said as they entered an empty elevator.

"How old you are, what you want to be when you grow up. Anything you want me to know, really." Yeah, anything to calm him down, although just getting him away from his relatives did seem to ease the tension quite a bit. Even so, the boy was well on his way to a panic attack, or he was about to have one, either way, the child needed to calm down.

"Um, well, I am currently eleven, but I'll be twelve soon." He said softly, wondering why this boy was so curious about him. "Really? That must be exciting. When's your birthday?" Quatre pressed, as they exited the lift and onto another corridor.

"July 31st," he responded, picking at his long sleeves. He really didn't want Agent Winner to see the scars or marks on his arm.

Less than a month away.

"Are you going to do anything special? Hang out with friends?" Harry sighed; he had to admit the man beside him was relentless in his questioning.

"No, no, my birthday's aren't important. I mean, the Durley's don't go out of their way to celebrate birthdays. It's just another day, you know, um, nothing special."  
"Is it?"

The question caused an almost a knee jerk reaction in Harry, as he suddenly looked up and caught Quatre's concerned gaze for a second before ducking his head in a sign of submission and hunching in on himself.

But in that second, Quatre saw more than he ever needed to see. He observed the blacking bruise that looked all too fresh to have been there for any substantial amount of time. He would reckon that Harry had gained that particular bruise sometime earlier that day, or very late last night.

And then the eyes; the emerald green eyes that held too many secrets, it reminded him of Trowa. But Quatre couldn't help but wonder what kind of secrets an eleven-year-old boy would carry to give him such a look.

Quatre fell silent, perhaps realizing that Harry wasn't really in the mood to talk. Or maybe it was because they had arrived at their destination.

It was a small nondescript room, sparsely furnished beyond a desk and a couple of chairs.

"Why don't you sit in that chair, Harry." Quatre did his best not to make it sound like a command, but it didn't matter. He observed the skittish child quickly sit and hugged his thin frame while keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

Yes, Sally was going to be needed for this one.

"Wait here, I will be right back with Sally in a moment, and she can begin the process of getting you registered." Without waiting for a confirmation, Quatre stepped out of the room and walked over to where he knew Sally would be. Quietly the former Sandrock pilot began to inform her of his suspicions before leading the way back to the room where the boy in question occupied.

Quatre almost gasped as the panic hit him. Even in the few minutes, he'd been out of Harry's presence; Quatre could tell that the boy had fallen a bit deeper in his state of panic.

Sally looked at him in concern, but all Quatre could do was stare at the boy before him.

"Hello there, Harry, I am Dr. Sally Po, but please call me Sally," the Doctor said, quietly observing the odd behavior of the child before her and filing it away for later.

The greeting pulled Harry out of his progressively deepening spiral of panic, and his eyes flashed up to the agent that had led him up here and his new companion.

"Um, hello," Harry said softly, knowing that if word reached his Aunt and uncle that he was rude to any of these people, that he would be in for one uncomfortable night.

"I hear from Quatre here that you are going to be having a birthday soon?" Sally said in her attempt to put the boy at ease. She had nothing of real importance to do at the moment, so she felt that it would be better to try to calm the child down before drawing his blood and perhaps even get a few answers from him in the process.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said somewhat shyly, albeit confused as to why everyone here seemed to have such an interest in his birthday. Maybe they really didn't care but didn't know what else to talk about- it wouldn't be the first time.

"He says you'll be turning twelve?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please call me Sally," she repeated while sitting down in front of Harry to get a better look at the skinny child.

"Yes, ma- I mean Sally."  
"if I may ask, Harry, what happened to your eye?" This time, genuine concern crept in her voice.

"Nothing. I was just playing with Dudders, sorry, Dudley, my cousin, and we got into a fight, and I got it. We fight all the time. It's no big deal."  
Sally glanced at the agent standing non threateningly as possible by the door, casually blocking the only escape route. He shook his head.

"Let me decide what is and is not a big deal, okay? And Harry? Quatre and I only want to help you but, we can't if you aren't going to be truthful with us." Sally tried again, but Harry shook his head violently.  
"Can we please just get this over with." Both Sally and Quatre could hear the desperation in his voice. "My, my relatives are waiting for me, and I think they want to get home before dark, so I think they will probably want to leave soon."  
Sally sighed internally before giving Harry a sad smile. "The Dursley's will leave when we allow it. But, I suppose you are right about one thing. Let me get the necessary supplies, and then once we've taken care of business, I would like to check you over to make sure your cousin didn't do any further damage, all right?"


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers:** The author does not own anything associated with Harry Potter, Gundam Pilots, or Disney's _Pinocchio_.

**Warnings:** Mentions, blood, panic attacks, child and animal abuse.

The author is not a doctor and does not condone abuse upon anyone or anything on any level.

Dialogue heavy.

* * *

**"If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme. When you wish upon a star, as dreamers do, fate is kind. She brings to those who love the sweet fulfillment of their secret longing." - Jiminy Cricket (From Disney's **_**Pinocchio**_**)**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

He had thought that it would be a simple job, and they would be done, but he should have known better. Like all things concerning Harry, it wasn't to be that simple.

The woman had tied a tourniquet around his bicep uncomfortably tight and probed his boney arm for a vein while being mindful of the bruises that littered his arm that were in various stages of healing. Although Harry didn't voice any discomfort, he couldn't wait for the woman to untie the stretchy band from around his arm.

"Harry," the doctor said after a couple of minutes of searching she seemed to give up, "When was the last time you had anything to drink?"

Harry frowned, uncertain as to why it mattered as to when he had last drunk something. The Dursley's had said that this was supposed to be a simple required blood test, not a health check-up. So why would it matter what his drinking habits were?

Seeing him frown, Sally softly spoke as not to startle the already skittish boy. Harry noticed that the older boy also seemed to be on edge, but he couldn't fathom why.

"I only ask because I am having difficulty finding a vein. There could be many reasons for this, but dehydration is common this time of year." Harry's good eye, or rather, the one that wasn't swollen almost shut, flew back to the woman as she untied the tourniquet.

"I drank some water yesterday, but I wasn't thirsty this morning," Harry pleaded, trying to convince her to try again. But the truth was, he hadn't been allowed to drink anything this morning or last night, and he was thirsty. Very thirsty.

"I'm sorry, I promise that I'll drink more in the future. I um, I didn't bring anything with me to drink, I mean, maybe you could try my other arm." Harry stammer out, almost cringing at the thought of having to come back and do this all over again. No doubt, his uncle would have some very choice words if this trip was for nothing. Harry was sure that if he left without registering, the only reason why the Dursley's would bring him back was because it was required and against some new law that had been passed at some point while Harry had been at Hogwarts.

"I doubt that you could drink enough at this point to rehydrate yourself, but I will try the other arm." She allowed if only to calm him as he looked to be on the verge of tears. He wasn't the only one, but Sally decided not to draw attention to Quatre.

Harry jerked his other sleeve up as the woman carefully rolled down the other sleeve. She raised an eyebrow at the apparent hand-shaped bruise from where his uncle had grabbed his arm and thrown him down.

"Perhaps some juice or water, as well as something to eat, are in order before we try again," Sally said abruptly, startling Harry while giving Quatre a long and pointed look.

Quatre gave her a slow nod, obviously catching something Harry hadn't and slipped out of the room without a word.

Harry started to fret, anxiously, wondering where the boy was going, but Sally didn't give Harry time to dwell on it. She effortlessly captured his attention again by tapping on his arm and asking, "What happened here, Harry?" While her voice was calm, Harry noticed that it wasn't as chipper as before.

"I, uh," Harry tried to formulate what had happened but felt his mouth go dry. He fiddled at the hem of his shirt for a long moment before whispering. "My uncle grabbed my arm this morning after I got into the fight." Harry refused to meet her eyes as shame flooded him. Here he was supposed to be a hero, someone people looked up to, but he couldn't even fight off his uncle. Granted, his uncle was a lot bigger than he was, but one would think that the boy-who-lived and all wouldn't be afraid of a muggle -not when there was a more serious threat after him.

"And I take it the other bruises I noticed on your arms came from the fight?"

Harry gave a ragged nod, choosing to ignore the flaming red cheeks he was now sporting. Although the woman before him did not call him out on it, it was clear she hadn't bought his lie.

"Did your cousin receive similar treatment from your uncle?"

Shaking his head in negative, Harry knew that his uncle would never touch his son in such a rough handed way.

At that point, the door opened and admitted a new boy, Harry's head snapped up and took in the newcomer. This boy was around the same age as the other, but Harry noticed that he didn't seem to be as openly friendly as the blonde had been.

In his hand he carried a container of water and a sandwich, which he placed on the table and stood back by the door with his arms crossed his chest and gazed cooly at Harry, studying the raven-haired boy carefully.  
"Thank you." She said to the boy, before turning back to Harry, "I want you to eat and drink all that, and then we will see if I can't have better results."

Emphatically, the malnourished boy nodded before beginning to devour the food and drink. The sooner the Preventer doctor did what she intended to do, and the sooner he got back to the Dursley's, the better. No doubt, they weren't going to be pleased with being kept waiting.

While he was eating and drinking under the close supervision of Sally Po, she tried to ease the tension in the room a bit by making introductions, "Harry, this is Heero Yuy, he also works for the Preventers and Heero, this is Harry Potter."

In no time, Harry had finished his first meal in days and was looking expectantly at the woman, even going as far as to hold his arm out, inviting her to tie the tourniquet back around it and try it again.

Taking his arm gently, she tied the band around it and instructed him to make a fist. Although it still took a few minutes, she had better luck the second time and found a vein. Harry sighed in relief; that was until she began inserting the needle. He probably would have pulled away from her, if she hadn't been expecting it.

Harry decided then and there that he was so glad that needles weren't necessary in _his_ world. He hated them. Hated the way they pinched going in. Hated the tug as they pulled out, and hated the sting that they left behind in their wake. He was also glad that wizards and witches had learned how to spell potions and the likes into each other without ever having to use something so ominous as a needle. He had no way of knowing how much blood the test required, but surely, it did not take _that_ much. Harry felt like she must have depleted his body of nearly half of his blood before pulling out the needle and plastering the wound.

Smiling at Harry, Sally moved over to the desk and wrote something down while pocketing the vials of blood. Harry was kind of glad too. He wasn't squeamish around blood, couldn't be, with his uncle's temper, but just seeing his blood so soon after having eaten made Harry feel a little sick.

"Let me go ahead and see if I cannot get this run-through. I won't have the results back today, but it will at least get the process started. And then, when we get back, I want to discuss this fight you had with your cousin in greater detail." Sally Po said briskly while Heero moved aside just enough to let her pass.

Harry seemed to deflate while looking longingly after the doctor, wishing he could follow as the brunette moved back over to stand in front of the door, denying him the chance of doing the same.

Neither the boy nor Harry said a word, and for just a brief second, Harry wished that Agent Winner was the one in the room. At least the other Preventer Agent would have engaged in small talk instead of staring at him, making him more uncomfortable than he already was.

But Harry knew that these people didn't care about his comfort. If they had, then they wouldn't continually try to get him to explain the bruising or the "fight" he had with his cousin.

The longer the doctor was gone, the more the tension in the room grew, and by the time she finally came back, with a clipboard in hand, Harry felt his stomach was doing flip-flops.

She was going to try and take his statement concerning his injuries, and Harry was at a loss. On the one hand, Harry had been told not to say a word to anyone about his home life, but the Dursley had also said that he needed to cooperate with the Preventer Agents and not cause any trouble.

He had already said too much. Harry suspected that the doctor didn't completely buy the story about his supposed fight with his cousin, mainly since the hand-shaped bruise on his arm looked to be the same size as a rather large full-grown man. But Harry was going to stick to that story, for as long as possible. There wasn't anything Harry knew they could do if it were between two cousins, but Harry was smart enough to know that if he spoke about his Aunt and Uncle, then he would be sent to an orphanage, and he couldn't have that.

Logically, Harry knew that he shouldn't be trying to protect the Dursley's, and a year ago, he wouldn't have even tried, but a year at Hogwarts had changed that.

Harry knew more about his parents, and their sacrifice now, and knew that he had to stay with the Dursley's, no matter how he might personally feel about it- unless there was another equally close family member that he didn't know about.

Harry knew that the blood test would either verify what everyone knew to be true or by some twist of fate give him the family member he so desperately wanted.

But what if he did have another family member? Would they decide that Harry wasn't good enough for them? What if they decided, like the Dursley's, that he was nothing more than a freak? Harry knew he was getting ahead of himself, as there was no such family member at the moment, but what if-

"_Breathe!"_ A voice said roughly while picking Harry up and pinning him in a lap, the sudden movement breaking his train of thought. As he became aware of his surroundings, Harry began to struggle, but the arms pinning him down effortlessly stilled his movements.  
"Breath, kid, you're safe! No one's going to hurt you. Whatever's got you in this state of panic is probably not true. Follow my breathing kid and calm down."

As the haze lifted, Harry slowly was able to match his breathing with whoever was trying to help him. Harry hazard it was Heero, as the voice wasn't soft like Quatre's was.

Too exhausted to care that he was sitting in someone's lap, let alone a Preventer's Agent's lap, Harry sagged forward and took another deep, reassuring breath.

At Sally's cue, Heero slowly eased his hold on the still trembling boy, although he did not make any move to remove the boy in his lap.

"Do you have panic attacks often?" Sally asked with mild concern.

"N-no." Harry had only recalled feeling this way once before. It had been after his uncle had threatened to kill Hedwig because she was being too noisy for his liking in the days following his return home from Hogwarts. He had been unusually irritable during those days, and Harry remembered sitting on his bed, struggling to breathe before eventually passing out.

"Have you ever had one before?"

"No, ma'am," Harry said but both Preventer Agents caught the hesitancy.

"Sally, Harry, if you will. Remember Heero, Quatre and I are all your friends here, so first name basis please." The woman gently reminded the boy, before continuing to question him about the panic attack.

"Do you know what brought it on?" But again, Harry denied knowing anything.

"If it happens again, or you feel like you are having trouble breathing, you need to alert your guardians or another trusted adult." She said while waiting for confirmation.

Harry promised, albeit reluctantly, knowing full and well that the Dursley's would never do anything to help him if he suffered from another one. Harry also knew that there wasn't a trusted adult in his life right now, or at least one that he could communicate freely with. He supposed that he could send a letter to his professors- providing that he could function enough to write- but then what was he supposed to do? What were _they_ supposed to do?

"Now, I want you to tell me how you really managed to get that hand-shaped bruise on your arm as well as those cuts and other bruises on your arms."

"I got them in the fight, honest! I called Dudley a name and he got mad at me and he tackled me. That's also how I got the black eye and busted lip and broken glasses. Then Uncle Vernon broke it up and pulled me up; he didn't mean to be so rough he was just mad and was worried we'd be late."

"Perhaps you got some of them in the shuffle, but there are other, less recent, bruises that have yet to fade on your arms. How did you get them?"  
"Dudley and I don't get along well…" Harry mumbled, looking down internally, cringing at the thought of everything he was telling these agents somehow getting back to the Dursley's. If so, it wasn't Dudley he'd need to be worried about.

"So you have said multiple times," The brunette said cooly, "but Sally asked _how_ you got them, not _who_, or _who you claim_, gave them to you. For which I would like to say that unless your cousin is the size of a full-grown hippo, then I would say that it was someone older and a lot bigger than yourself is responsible."

When Harry felt the boy, Heero's eyes bore into him- almost like he was seeing inside his very soul- he knew that this Preventer Agent would sniff out every lie and probably call him out on it.

"Um, my- my cousin will pinch me sometimes, or he likes to go, Harry Hunt-, I mean _chase_, he likes to chase me around the neighborhood."  
Harry licked his lips nervously, hoping that they hadn't caught his little slip-up. It would be mortifying explaining the in's and out's of _that_ particular game.

"And what, does this "little game of chase" consist of that would cause you to become so heavily bruised?" It appeared that Sally had decided to let the other boy lead in the questioning. Harry kind of wished that she would take over again, as he could deflect her questions easily enough. Or at least, she didn't seem to demand an answer to every question.

The things he was telling this boy, he hadn't told anyone since that disastrous time he had tried telling his second-year teacher back in Primary.

"It is a bit between hide-and-seek, and tag, where Dudley's "it" and I have to try to find somewhere to hide so that he can't get, _catch_ me."

"And where do you usually hide?" The boy pressed on, clearly not satisfied with Harry's half-answers.

"Um, anywhere he can't reach me. Dudley's not the fittest, so I can easily outrun him. Sometimes I'll hide in a tree, but I mainly did that when I was younger to get away from Ripper-" Harry cut his wandering thoughts off as he slapped his hand over his mouth and stared in mortification at what he had just admitted.

The door opened during Harry's attempt to explain Harry-Hunting and Quatre entered. Harry supposed he was glad to see the blonde boy. _He_ had been nice at least and had not demanded Harry answer question upon question while the doctor sat quietly upon her stool taking more notes than Hermione did in Transfiguring.

"What kind of name is Ripper? _What_ is a Ripper?" Quatre said, although he sounded to be in pain, which confused Harry. Had he somehow managed to get hurt in the few minutes he was away?

"Ripper is a dog. My Aunt Marge, although she's really not my aunt, she's Uncle Vernon's sister, but I have to call her that. Anyway, she breeds bulldogs, and he would always chase me when she came for a visit."  
"And your aunt just let him? Didn't she do something about it before you had to climb a tree?" Quatre questioned softly.

Harry shook his head and shrugged before hastily trying to backpedal, "No, sorry, No, sir. She thought it was funny. Kind of like Dudley does when he chases me." Harry gave a humorless laugh.  
"She thought it was funny that a dog was chasing around a child?" Quatre said, but his voice came out flat. Harry quickly peeked at him through his lashes and noticed that he was the only one laughing. No one else found it even remotely amusing.

"And how old were you when this Ripper was chasing you up trees?"

"Five or six, maybe. I don't know. I was young."

"Did your aunt and uncle ever say anything?"  
This time Heero let out something close to a snort, "Doubtful;" while shooting Harry an expecting look.

Quatre frowned but looked encouragingly at Harry.

"No. They just laughed." Harry hung his head, dejectedly.

"I'm _sorry?"_ And while it was said perfectly polite, Harry heard something dangerous in those two words.

"They, my aunts and uncle, thought it was funny."

"What is so funny about a dog chasing a child up a tree?"

"I guess you just kind of, you know, had to be there."  
"What?"  
"I don't know. They thought it was hilarious." Harry said, almost pleading them just to let the subject drop. Luckily Sally jumped in, although the humor seemed to be lost on her as well.

"Did the dog ever bite you?"

"Once or twice," Seeing the dark looks being passed around the room, Harry quickly tacked on, "but that was when I was too little to outrun him! He hasn't bitten me in years- now that we are both older, and I am faster."

"I don't care how long ago it was; I do not like the idea of adults just sitting around letting things like this happen. Did anyone ever notice or report it?"


End file.
